


Not You

by orphan_account



Series: Civil Law [5]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bucky meets someone new. Set several months before the "Long Nights" epilogue.





	

Bucky found his pants on the floor and sat down on the bed to pull them on. It was late in the morning, almost noon, and the sun was coming in bright and warm through the hotel room’s single large window.

Behind him, naked under the white blankets and sprawled out on his side, Prince T’Challa looked openly on, watching Bucky get dressed with obvious interest.

“You said you’ll be in London?” T’Challa said.

Bucky looked at him over his shoulder, eyes raking shamelessly over the muscled expanse of his bare chest. “I did,” he confirmed. He stood up to grab his shirt where it had been thrown over an ornate chair. “Why? You have something in mind?”

“Dinner?” T’Challa said hopefully. “And maybe a room at the Ritz?”

He buttoned the shirt up just enough, rolling the sleeves to his elbows. It had been a long time since anyone had shown such bold, blatant interest in him, and Bucky was revelling in it. “I’ll have you know, _Your Highness_ ,” he said huskily, looping his tie around his neck and letting it hang there. “I don’t put out on the second date.”

“Just the first, then?”

They grinned at one another. Bucky got back into bed and crawled over to him, bracing himself atop the prince. “I had fun last night,” he whispered.

“Me too.” T’Challa swept his thumb over Bucky’s lip and kissed him soundly, big hands sliding down Bucky’s back to grab his ass and pull him in close. Bucky moaned into his mouth. “Stay,” T’Challa insisted. “Have breakfast with me.”

“Duty calls,” Bucky said, apologetic. “Besides, can’t have you thinking I’m easy.”

“I’ll text you.”

“I don’t recall giving you my number.”

T’Challa smirked up at him. “I’ll text you,” he said again. He took both ends of Bucky’s tie in one hand and pulled him down again, kissing him deeper this time. Filthier. He rolled Bucky onto his back and crawled over him, biting into that plush lower lip before licking deep into his mouth again. Bucky clutched at him helplessly.

“I’ve really gotta go,” Bucky breathed, hitching one leg up high around T’Challa’s waist, clawing his nails down T’Challa’s broad, muscular back.

“All right,” T’Challa said. He was unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt, sucking hard, wet kisses down the length of Bucky’s neck and chest, already decorated with love bites.

When Bucky finally got out of the elegant suite and into the elevator, legs still shaking a bit from the best blowjob of his life, he looked down at his phone and noticed several missed calls - all of them from Steve. Bucky was supposed to have been downstairs and outside half an hour ago.

Oops.

As soon as he stepped out into the lobby, hastily looping his tie into a knot, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked down at the screen and smiled.

“By all means, Buck, take your time,” Steve said wryly as Bucky opened the door and climbed into the car. “We’re only an hour late.”

“Sorry.”

“You could’ve stayed at the other hotel with the rest of us.”

“I already had a reservation,” Bucky lied, looking down at his phone again. He quickly typed off a response to Prince T’Challa, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

Bucky climbed into the backseat to change into his tactical gear. The drive to the airfield wasn’t long, and they were both headsetted and airborne in no time, Steve piloting the small jet like a pro.

***

“I take it you’re seeing someone?” Steve said after a while. They were somewhere over the Pacific, and their talk until now had been all about the mission.

“Kinda,” Bucky said uneasily, staring down at the water. Steve was the very last person he wanted to have this conversation with.

They still hadn’t discussed that horrible kiss - when they’d first talked about Matt, in the breakroom at the Tower, and Bucky had pinned Steve to the wall. Thinking about it now made him wince.

“That’s great, Buck,” Steve said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you?”

“Look, I, um... I was really worried about you. Worried that... I don’t know. You just seemed really down for a while. And lately you’ve been a lot better.”

There was a reason for that, of course, Bucky thought to himself. He’d met Prince T’Challa - or rather, or had been _sought out_ by him - at a recent UN meeting.

T’Challa was charming, exquisitely mannered, fine as _hell_ , and - best of all - uncomplicated. Unlike Steve and all the others, T’Challa was far, far removed from Bucky’s old life - the one he was trying so hard to put behind him. The new start was refreshing. Invigorating. And no one had ever flown overseas to take Bucky out for a drink before (and in their own private jet, no less). It made him feel special, in a way that no one else ever had.

Valued.

“Thanks,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the window.

He couldn’t say these things to Steve. Not without hurting his feelings.

As though having read his mind, however, Steve took a deep breath and said, “We never talked about the time you kissed me.”

Bucky’s whole body went tense.

“And we don’t have to right now,” Steve continued. “But I feel like we should. At some point, I mean.”

Bucky chewed at his lower lip. “I was... really messed up at the time,” he began. _Messed up_ was such an understatement. Bucky had been spiraling into an intense depression. “And I wasn’t over you, yet.”

The words made him uncomfortable, but at least he could finally admit it. Getting over Steve had been one long, intensely painful process. Even when he’d had Foggy, and Natasha, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what Bucky really wanted.

He didn’t think about Matt. He didn’t even want to go there.

“I could tell you were hurting,” Bucky continued. “And it was my fault. And I... I wanted to comfort you. Somehow.” He huffed. “I know it only made things worse for you. It was selfish. I’m sorry.”

Steve was quiet for a while, his gaze focused out on the horizon. “It’s okay,” he finally said. He looked at Bucky and smiled - the small, sweet smile he kept away from the cameras. The genuine one. “I’m just really glad you’re doing better. And that you finally cut your hair.”

Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes. “I guess it was about time, huh?”

“It was, pal. It really was.”

***

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.”

T’Challa smiled at him from across the table. He took another sip of his red before responding, “What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “Anything.” _Everything_.

T’Challa set down his glass and looked away for a moment. The look on his face was contemplative. “I don’t want to be king,” he said. His soulful eyes met Bucky’s again. “I’ve never wanted to be royalty. The responsibilities... the danger... I’ve never wanted any of it. But it is a burden I carry with pride. And duty. You know something of that, I am sure.”

Bucky grinned, taking a sip of his own wine. He didn't usually drink, but figured one glass wouldn't hurt. “A little bit, yeah," he responded.

T’Challa was staring at him again. He looked so handsome tonight, it took Bucky’s breath away.

“What?” Bucky said, smirking at him over his glass.

“You are absolutely exquisite,” T’Challa said plainly.

Well, hell.

Bucky chuckled self-consciously, lowering his eyes and putting his teeth in his lip.

Not a bad way to spend the evening. He’d always loved coming to London.


End file.
